


Fall of Snow

by inlovewithnight



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-30
Updated: 2006-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight





	Fall of Snow

It's snowing, big fat flakes drifting down slow and lazy from the stars to pile up in a thick blanket over everything, over all of Hestia's Landing and all the north country. Winter comes early to this part of Scorpia and stays long, and it's Karl's favorite time of the year. He'd live up above the permafrost line with his granddad, if it didn't mean leaving his mama and his sibs and all his friends down here in town.

The first snow is something to celebrate as far as he's concerned. Anticipation's been building for weeks: Mama and Grandma and the aunts have been piling hand-knit scarves and socks and sweaters on all the kids ever since the wind changed at the final turn of summer. He's known the storm was coming for days from the smell in the air, and this afternoon, the last hour or two before the flakes started, he'd fled out to the snowbreak. He climbed up into the limbs of one of the trees and tilted his head back, listening as the wind picked up and savoring the way the air tasted under the cloud-thick sky.

Now it's finally snowing, and he tucks his chin down under his scarf and watches the flakes drift down. Winter's here-- cold so bitter tree branches snap like glass. Blizzards that put the whole town under a heavy blanket and snow Granddad in till spring. Saturnalia, with dancing and songs and presents and this year, _this_ year, he's finally old enough to drink the honeyed wine and stay up till sunrise.

And the best part, the very best part of all-- Uncle James will get the sled out and hitch up the dogs, and he's always promised that the year Karl stays up for Saturnalia, he gets to learn how to drive.

They have tractors and plows and snow-skimmers, of course, but Karl likes the dogs better, just like Granddad and Uncle James. Going out on the sled is a hell of a lot more fun than one of the machines, not to mention quieter and better-smelling. Plus he just plain likes the dogs, has ever since he could toddle down to the kennels, and they like him too. His cousins always joked that the dogs just thought Karl was another puppy, clumsy and with paws too big for his body.

He jumps down off the tree branch when he can't feel his toes anymore, bouncing up and down to get the blood going again and scooping up the first accumulated inches to make an experimental snowball. The snow's no good for anything yet, falling apart in a hiss of powder when he tosses it up in the air, and he shrugs, shoves his hands down in his jacket pockets, and starts jogging back toward the house. Lots of time for playing in the snow, the whole season ahead. Every breath of air burns his lungs just a little bit, and he grins as he tugs his scarf up higher to cover his mouth. Gods, this is his favorite time of the year. He can't imagine anything better than this, not all the credits in all the worlds or all the stars in the sky.  



End file.
